Seeking Enrique Read online

  “Sit, I’ll get you something.”

  Jules piled two plates high with a potato, egg, and sausage scramble. He followed those with two steaming cups of coffee, and sat across from Rick at the little wrought iron table by the window. They ate in silence for a moment, Rick chipper as a bluebird, Jules lost in thought.

  “So I read…”

  “I wanted to…”

  They spoke at the same time, and stopped.

  “Go ahead,” Rick chuckled.

  “I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Jules said. “It’s no excuse, but I think the cabin fever’s getting to me. I don’t take long weekends, I rarely take vacations. When I do, I always have something to do. Someone to see, somewhere to be, some activity to pursue. Being stuck in the snow like this is driving me crazy. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know I have, again and again, and I really can’t apologize enough.”

  “How ‘bout once?” Rick asked, his lips quirking into a small smile.

  “Hm?”

  “Well that was a fantastic preamble, but it didn’t actually contain an apology.”

  “Oh. Huh. Well, I am sorry.” Jules said, a bit defensively.

  “You’re forgiven,” Rick said lightly.

  “What was it you were going to say?” Jules asked.

  “Just that I read a romance novel last night. Not sure I’ve ever read one before. Never really saw a reason to, I guess. Anyway, I didn’t know what to do last night when you kissed me. It’s not a storyline I ever saw playing out in my own life, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I just wanted to say that my running away wasn’t a rejection, not really. It was more of an emergency research session.”

  Jules laughed, then stopped when he saw bewilderment darken Rick’s cheerful mood.

  “I’m sorry,” Jules said. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because you surprised me again. I’ve never met anyone, ever, who would stop what they’re doing to read a book on the subject. I find it endlessly adorable.”

  “You do?”

  “I really do.”

  “Oh,” Rick said happily, blushing pink.

  “So did you learn anything?” Jules asked.

  “Well… I don’t know, really,” Rick said thoughtfully. “I guess I got a feel for the pattern, the way these things go ideally. I mean, it’s one author’s idea of the way things are supposed to go I guess, but that’s better than what I had before. I kind of have a sort of outline now.”

  “And what does the outline say happens next?”

  Rick looked at him through his lashes.

  “More of what happened before,” he said, the blush deepening on his cheeks. “Maybe more. But I think there’s talking involved.”

  “We’re talking now,” Jules grinned.

  “Yeah,” Rick laughed nervously. “I guess we are.”

  “You said you never thought romance would be relevant to your life… what made you think that?” Jules asked casually.

  “Oh, because I’m weird. Beyond weird. Weird to the point of crippling social anxiety and an utter inability to feel out an intensely emotional situation. I never thought any adult would ever take an interest.”

  “Adult?” Jules asked sharply.

  “That sounded wrong. What I meant was, I had a couple boyfriends in high school, but I never really thought it would happen for me as an adult.”

  “Oh, gotcha. Had me scared for a second.”

  “Yeah, that’s another thing. I tend to say the wrong things at the wrong time. Writing is way different, you know. I have a chance to look things over, edit here and there, really think about what it is I want to express before I express it. Talking is all in real time, and that’s daunting.”

  “I can see that,” Jules said, nodding. “I find myself rewriting important emails and things. You do get a little more control when you’re writing. This week notwithstanding, though, I usually hold my own pretty well when it comes to speaking in person.”

  “Maybe you could teach me how to do that,” Rick suggested slowly. “I’m still bloody terrified of greeting hundreds,” he shuddered. “Hundreds or thousands of people for three straight months. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to do it.”

  “Maybe we can do some role playing,” Jules suggested.

  A wicked twinkle came to his eye.

  “And then we can practice talking to strangers,” he grinned wolfishly.

  “What? Why are you repeating… oh!” Rick realized what he meant, and laughed.

  “I don’t know if I’ve heard you laugh before,” Jules said appreciatively.

  “I don’t, much,” Rick shrugged. “I don’t like the way it sounds, so I try not to.”

  “Well I like it,” Jules declared. “And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to make you laugh as often as I’m able.”

  “Oh,” Rick said, flustered but pleased. “Um, be my guest, I guess.”

  They finished their meal in comfortable silence and washed the dishes together. Jules thought it was cozy; chores weren’t exactly his favorite thing in the world, but with Rick beside him, they were almost enjoyable. Rick found himself exceptionally aware of Jules’ presence, and it distracted him to no end. He nearly dropped a plate, and Jules had to keep the sink from overflowing when he forgot to shut off the water.

  “So… what do you want to do now?” Rick asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me about this new story you were writing?” Jules suggested.

  “Oh, it’s not really much of a story yet. It’s mostly just characters and history. I haven’t really decided how he’s going to use the crystal; back in the day, I was going to have him solve mysteries with it, but that seems a little cliché, doesn’t it? I mean there are so many applications for a tool like that, it’s hard to decide on just—”

  He was cut off by a thunderous crash on the roof that shook dust from the rafters. They shared a worried look and darted up the stairs to the one clear window. Rick beat Jules to the bed by seconds and gasped.

  “Look!” he breathed.

  Rivulets of melting snow were pouring down the window. Beyond, trees shook piles of snow from their branches, which sank into the snowbanks below. Rick put his hand to the window glass.

  “It’s warm,” he said in awe.

  “It’s bright,” Jules added. “I thought it was supposed to rain?”

  “Maybe it decided to take a break in between precipitations.” Rick shrugged.

  “Maybe,” Jules said. His brow furrowed in concern.

  “What’s wrong?” Rick asked. “Didn’t you want the snow to melt?”

  “Well, yeah,” Jules said. “But it’s warming up really fast. If it keeps melting at this rate, rain or no rain, there’s going to be one hell of a flood. How high up are we here?”

  “Fourteen, fifteen feet off the ground,” Rick told him.

  “So there’s at least eight feet of snow out there, and it’s gotta be sixty degrees or more outside.”

  “I see your point,” Rick said, frowning. “It’ll probably freeze tonight and heat up again tomorrow.”

  “Let’s keep an eye on it today. We might not have a choice but to dig out tomorrow and get on the road before it gets really messy.”

  “On the road,” Rick repeated.

  His stomach curdled, and he dug his fists into it.

  “It’ll be okay,” Jules said, rubbing Rick’s shoulders comfortingly. “I’ll be there with you every minute.”

  “Can I just stare at the table and sign the books?” Rick asked desperately.

  “If you have to,” Jules sighed. “But they really will be looking for some kind of acknowledgment.”

  Rick groaned and curled into the fetal position on the bed.

  “Hey,” Jules said. “I have an idea. If we have to leave tomorrow, this is our last chance to get blind drunk before we start the tour. You wanna?”

  Rick just nodded, whimpering wordlessly. Jules raced down the stairs to the sealed cupboard. He cut it open with a ste
ak knife.

  “Clear or dark?” he called up to the loft.

  “Don’t care,” Rick replied.

  Jules was more worried than he let on. Rick seemed to have reverted to the same state of mind he’d been in when Jules had showed up that first day. Jules would have to figure out how to keep him from falling into that pool of panic if he could, and fish him out if he couldn’t. Either way, the sudden thaw with all of its implications was creating tension. Jules had hoped, on a subconscious level, that they would have a day free of tension and drama to really get to know one another. He’d hoped, in a secret, unacknowledged place, that the day would be salvaged in his favor.

  He set a tray with liquors and mixers, glasses, and a martini shaker; everything an anxious alcoholic could ask for. He rushed the tray up the stairs, pausing three steps up; was he enabling destruction, attempting to seduce, or being a good friend? It was too big a question for him to tangle with while carrying a heavy tray upstairs, so he pushed the issue to the back of his mind. Maybe he’d remember to chew on it later. Maybe his intentions would reveal themselves as the day played out. He didn’t pay much attention to that sort of thing, though he was beginning to suspect that he should.

  Rick was sitting up in bed with his arms around his knees, staring out the window.

  “Hey, look at you! You look better already, and I haven’t even made your medicine yet,” Jules smiled.

  “Yeah, it passed quickly this time. Not sure why,” Rick said absently.

  “It?” Jules asked as he poured.

  “Anxiety. Panic. Whatever you want to call it. It comes in waves like that sometimes. Feels like high tide in midsummer in Hawaii inside my skin, ripping through my gut, filling my lungs. I drown in it, and sometimes it’s days before I feel right again. Sometimes it’s minutes. Sometimes it hollows me out completely, until I can’t feel anything at all forever and ever until suddenly I can get angry or sad. The rest of the feelings slowly fade in, like an old technicolor movie.”

  “That sounds awful,” Jules said.

  “It is what it is,” Rick shrugged. “My own little carousel of hell.”

  Jules handed him a drink, and he took it without looking at it. His eyes were fixed on some point outside the window. Jules watched him and had the sudden overwhelming feeling that he was watching him through glass; as though Rick were on some alternate plane, and Jules was only seeing a secondary image of him. He shook off the feeling and poured his own drink.

  “How long?” Jules asked, after they’d finished their first drinks and moved into their second.

  “Hm?”

  “How long have you had these… attacks?”

  “My whole life,” Rick sighed.

  “Wow,” Jules said. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what happened to you that made you so anxious?”

  “Nothing,” Rick said, surprised. “Like I said, I’ve been like this all my life. My parents are normal people, they did their best. I didn’t have any horrible trauma or anything, no thrilling back story. I just… am.”

  Jules wrestled with that idea, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around it.

  “So when you were a baby?”

  “I’d scream if someone picked me up unexpectedly. I was always terrified of strangers, to the point of vomiting at church and playgrounds and grocery stores.”

  “Are you sure nothing happened?” Jules asked again.

  Rick shot him a look of annoyance.

  “Yes. I’m sure. You have no idea what it’s like to be abnormal, do you?”

  “Well….” Jules didn’t like the insinuation that he couldn’t understand. “I’m gay, that’s unusual.”

  “Not really,” Rick said, shaking his head. “It’s a sexual identity, but it doesn’t encompass every aspect of your life. You don’t have to work around your gayness in order to function as a member of society. You know, outside a handful of nations and states.”

  Jules sipped his drink, trying to come up with another example. He didn’t know why it was so important to prove to Rick that he’d had just as much trouble succeeding at life; he desperately wanted Rick to understand that he understood, even though he didn’t.

  “Oh! I went to summer camp one year, and my mom signed me up for equestrian care lessons without my knowledge. Horses scare the crap out of me.”

  “What happened?” Rick asked.

  “Well, people laughed at me the whole first day, and I cried myself to sleep. I was twelve, so that was humiliating.”

  “And the second day?”

  Jules opened his mouth to respond, then realized that his answer would make it seem like he was patronizing Rick. He sipped his drink instead.

  “You got over it,” Rick said, accurately. “You faced your fear and pushed through to the other side, and now you dream of owning your own horse ranch someday.”

  “Okay, hold on,” Jules laughed. “I made it through two weeks of summer camp without crapping my pants, but I still don’t like horses.”

  Rick replied with the ghost of a smile and returned his gaze to the window. Clouds were rolling in, dulling the snow’s sparkle.

  “Looks like the weather’s back,” he said absently.

  Jules watched Rick’s face, seeing a lifetime of isolation reflected there. He shifted on the bed until they were hip-to-hip, and draped his arm around Rick’s shoulders.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t really understand what it’s like to be you. But I’m willing to try.”

  Rick looked up at him, mildly surprised.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “I mean, kind of. You don’t get to understand me in an hour or a day. Trying to understand me is going to be a significant challenge. A lot of hard work. If you don’t have a reason, you will give up. I’d just like to know how serious you are before I get invested.”

  “That makes sense,” Jules admitted. “In that case, my reason is that I like you and it makes me kind of angry that no one’s taken the time before.”

  A small smile lit Rick’s face.

  “Good enough for now,” he said, turning his face up to Jules.

  Moving without conscious thought, Jules lowered his head to plant his lips on Rick’s. The conversation had stirred up unfamiliar emotions, the alcohol had lowered inhibitions, and suddenly nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Ten

  Rick allowed himself to be taken over. It didn’t happen often; his anxiety had created a defensive barrier around him, that was impenetrable as a rule, but Jules had managed to lower the walls. Rick felt comfortable with him, and it made it easier to fall into the heady swirl of alcoholic hormones as Jules played his body like a fiddle.

  Clothes were tossed aside in moments. Rick lay, bare and vulnerable, under Jules’ greedy gaze. He blushed, embarrassed, and instinctively covered himself.

  “Let me see you,” Jules whispered, pulling Rick’s hands up over his head.

  He kissed Rick, pressing their bodies together. His thick, muscular build would have crushed Rick’s slender body if he let it, so he hovered slightly, barely letting their skin touch. Chills ran over Rick’s body, and he writhed, arching up to meet Jules.

  “I want to take my time with you,” Jules whispered huskily as he nibbled Rick’s ear.

  Rick gasped, turning his head to offer his tender neck to Jules. Jules attacked it slowly, a seductive vampire in the flesh, releasing Rick’s hands to let his own travel over Rick’s body. He rolled off of Rick so he could explore, hands and mouth igniting Rick’s nerves, making him pant and moan with pleasure.

  Jules’ mouth moved over Rick’s soft skin, his toned belly, his sharply defined hips, and finally, the velvety skin of Rick’s throbbing cock. Jules slid it between his lips, tasting every inch of him. Rick cried out, thrusting into Jules’ throat, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets. The moment he began to pulse and shake, Jules released him.


  “Not yet, sexy,” he growled playfully.

  Rick’s eyes were dark and unfocused, and he reached for Jules, pulling him down for a hot, passionate kiss. He tasted himself on Jules’ lips and groaned, tangling his legs around Jules’, arching up to press his belly to Jules’ dick.

  “You want it?” Jules asked.

  “Yes, yes, I want it,” Rick panted.

  “Tell me how much,” Jules demanded.

  “I can’t think of words,” Rick whimpered. “Just do me.”

  “Good enough,” Jules grinned.

  He sank into Rick slowly, teasing him inch by inch. Rick pressed for more, but Jules kept control, his hands locked securely on Rick’s hips. He pulled out just as slowly, torturously, watching Rick’s face.

  “Tell me how much you want it,” Jules growled again.

  Rick opened his eyes, his gaze sharpening on Jules’ face.

  “You get off on control? Do me or don’t, dammit,” he said angrily.

  Jules froze, caught between an angry retort and overwhelming lust. His hips began to move without him, his body making the decision as Rick tightened and pulsed around him. The moment of contention fled his mind as he fell into a rhythm, sinking deeper and deeper into Rick. Rick arched his back, crying out with pleasure as Jules pounded into him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

  Jules watched Rick lose himself to the sensations and immediately followed suit. He gripped Rick around his slender waist, pulling him up so he was balanced on Jules’ thighs, and kissed him with wild desperation.

  Rick shoved him backwards, taking over. He rode Jules as if he’d been doing it all his life, as if it was the only thing he ever wanted to do again. Jules thrust up into him as he slid down, their bodies in perfect sync, riding the wave of ecstasy together to crest as one. Rick screamed as he came, Jules harmonized with a low groan as pleasure beyond measure exploded in his being.

  Rick rolled off of him and collapsed on the bed. Breathing hard and glowing, he turned away from Jules and retrieved his drink from the table beside the bed. Jules rolled over and slapped his ass affectionately.

  “That… was good,” Jules gasped.

  “Don’t touch me,” Rick said.

  Jules stared, confused.